


A Ghost of a Touch

by lalaluma



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Porn with some plot, slightly angsty, what am I doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaluma/pseuds/lalaluma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Guardian of Fun's favorite place had been Berk. It was always winter in Berk, so it didn't matter what time of the year it was because Jack Frost was always welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ghost of a Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for tumblr user snow-day-magic because we were awake at the same time and both ship FrostCup  
> ps I finally got around to proof reading and editing this.

One of the many things that set Jack and Pitch apart was their approaches to being ignored and not believed in. From the very beginning Pitch was enraged, lashing out and desperate trying to be seen. Maybe this was because he had had a taste of power and suddenly it had been ripped out from under him. Maybe it was just in his nature. Either way, that wasn't Jack. Frost preferred to act the part, like he was actually interacting with those he watched over and was known to cause mischief on. He traveled all over the world, getting to know people and places.

The Guardian of Fun's favorite place had been Berk. It was always winter in Berk, so it didn't matter what time of the year it was because Jack Frost was always welcome. In previous years he had even helped put out a few fires caused by the dragons who were after the Viking's livestock, but recently it seemed that they had made peace with one another and now lived side by side. Which was fine and dandy for them, but a slight problem for Jack. While people couldn't see him, animals tended to have a much keener eye. Apparently dragons were no exception to this rule.

For a few years now Jack had grown quite attached to the Viking Chief's son, Hiccup. He was timid yet feisty and petite and sarcastic and he wasn't too hard on the eye's either; he was just Frost's type. So, maybe he didn't know that he was dating the immortal spirit of winter or that there even was an immortal spirit of winter; that didn't deter Jack. But this huge, snarling dragon did. Lights were doused on the first floor, and Jack knew he had to think up something quick if he wanted to make it in time. He furrowed his brows in concentration, looking about the large shed in which the fire-breathing reptile resided. Frost took note of a barrel to his left, a fish tail sticking out from under the lid. He slowly sidestepped toward it without letting himself blink in the face of the creature who's pupils were narrowing and stance was becoming more aggressive. In a last ditch effort Jack sprinted to the barrel, the dragon lunging immediately toward him but coming to a halt at the familiar sight of fish scattered on the ground. It's pupils became impossibly large and it even sounded like it could be purring as it gobbled up the food. The Guardian took no time picking up his staff and flying on up to the window he knew would be open. Hiccup had started leaving it open during these times, learning the hard way it would just "open itself" if he didn't.

He perched on the window sill, examining the room he knew too well. Hiccup had moved his bed from in front of the stairs to more hidden behind the wall, probably after an embarrassing run in with his father. But the stand with the single candle lit on it, wax having melted and pooled at the bottom, some even spilling over the lip of the candle holder and sticking the whole apparatus to the stand. The soft glow was the only light left in the whole house; bright enough to give Jack a good view and dim enough not to alert the neighbors. In the bed lay Hiccup, though he was all but sleeping. He was doing what sexually developing boys do best, and from his expression and the small noises escaping his lips he was doing a very good job of it.

Now, as a spirit Jack didn't really have the urges and desires that over came the living, but something in Hiccup stirred some of those feelings up in him. Not quite to the extent where he would have to take care of it himself, but enough where he would certainly enjoy a good show and pitch in a hand here and there (because while he may not be seen, he was certainly felt). Slowly Jack slipped from the sill and into the room itself, leaning his staff against the wall. Frost had a way in his walk that was simultaneously predatory and mischievous as he circled the bed, eyes fixed on the boy underneath the heavy blankets, stopping at the edge.

With a swipe of an arm threw the air a gust of wind blew the blanket right off of the bed. Hiccup sat straight up, completely startled, and Jack howled with laughter. The young viking grumbled and stood, walking slightly awkward over to what he could see of his blankets, but when he tugged at them they wouldn't budge. Hiccup had no idea that the spirit of winter was sitting atop them shaking his head and tsking. "I appreciate the view, honest, but you have to understand that's why you can't have these back yet." Hiccup didn't hear any of it. He never did. He gave a frustrated groan and flopped back on his bed, giving his retreating erection a few encouraging pumps to bring it back to life.

A small gust of wind pushed Jack to his feet and a big leap landed him at the foot of Hiccup's bed. "You were never one for pillow talk. I like that about you." He joked to himself, watching fondly as the viking boy worked himself over clumsily. Frost leaned forward, extending cold fingers out to massage the tip of his viking's already leaking member. Hiccup gasped, hips thrusting up into nothing as he tried to get more of that strangely arousing sensation. Jack chuckled playfully; who was he to deny him? Hiccup had Jack wrapped around his little finger, and he didn't even know who Jack was. Experimentally, The Guardian of Fun stuck out a tongue to lap up some of the excessive precum gathering, and Hiccup seemed to appreciate that, so he continued. He kissed and lapped at the velvety head, sometimes working up the courage to give it a little suck, all the while working his fingertips up the viking's body. From his fingers sprouted tendrils of frost that worked their way up Hiccup's body before inevitably melting. Hiccup didn't really realize what it was he was feeling, and assumed the cold touches were that of the wind coming though his open window. Between that and his own hand pumping himself furiously Hiccup didn't last very long. He never did. Luckily Jack had come to recognize the warning signs of an oncoming orgasm from Hiccup and was able to move out of the way. Never very loud in bed, he made only a long, low grunt as he came. Jack smirked, freezing some of the long white strands now covering Hiccup's belly, causing him to shiver slightly. The boy didn't notice, like always, and soon drifted off to sleep. Frost hopped off of the bed and retrieved the blankets, covering the viking and tucking him in. There was a gentle press of lips Hiccup wouldn't remember, and he was gone.

Jack all but fell out the window clutching his staff for dear after-life, swooping just in time to miss the roof of the shed where a very scary looking dragon was looking very sad to see him go. Frost laughed as the wind swept him away, "I'll bring you a nice big bull head next time! Promise!" He was met with a toothless smile which only made him laugh harder at how he had feared the creature earlier. Jack Frost circled the small island, bringing with him a good foot of snow and he was off. He would return soon for Hiccup again; and one of these times he would make him believe.


End file.
